


valley low, river wide

by hippolytas



Category: Champions (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Gen, Not Secret Empire Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 11:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13053027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippolytas/pseuds/hippolytas
Summary: “Hey Morales!” Sam yelled loudly from across the street. Kamala punched his shoulder. The bleary-eyed teens milling nervously around the steps of the school swung around in eerie synchronicity to glare at them.Miles jogged across the street. “What are you guys doing here?” he hissed, glancing back over his shoulder.“Stopping you from making a big mistake,” said Kamala.--Kamala’s just trying to help a friend.  Everything that goes wrong after that is basically Sam’s fault.





	valley low, river wide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowshus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowshus/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide!

Like most teenagers, Kamala Khan preferred to sleep in on Saturday mornings.Not today though. Today she had woken up before dawn to sneak out of the house and take a train into Brooklyn.

 

Friendship.She was doing this for friendship.

 

“Are you ready for this?” she asked seriously. 

 

“I was born ready.” Sam mumbled half heartedly, scowling at her from where he was trying to burrow his neck further into the collar of his sweatshirt. In the yellow-lit early morning dimness, it wasn’t very effective. Sam didn’t have that kind of face anyway. Instead, he looked kind of cute, like a grumpy turtle.“Are we going down there or what?”

 

“I ask because you don’t _look_ ready,” she told him, eyeing him critically. “You actually look really cold.”They were standing on a rooftop in Brooklyn, wearing civilian clothes.Sam’s worn Fantastic Four sweatshirt was a nice throwback, but just looking at him made her fingers go blue and numb. Kamala herself could still feel the bite of the wind, even with a heavy jacket and wrapped up to her eyeballs in knits. The flaps of her hat were even keeping her ears fairly warm. 

 

Sam’s ears, on the other hand, were bright red.She might as well spare the ER surgeon the trouble and cut them off herself.

 

Sam shoved his hands further under his armpits. “Yeah, well...it’s a lot warmer in Arizona,” he huffed. His breath puffed out between them and he scowled at the cloud of vapor until it dissipated, like it had done him a personal wrong. “My suit is climate controlled.”

 

At least he hadn’t come in shorts and sandals.“This is New York,” she said. “And it’s not like we can go down there in uniform. Here, put these on.”Kamala pulled off her mittens and handed them to him. 

 

Sam eyed them suspiciously. “They’re purple,” he grumbled as he pulled them on.

 

“So is Hawkeye,” Kamala said. “Take the scarf too.” She pulled off her scarf -  not the Ms. Marvel one, but a thick blue wool \- and handed that to him too. He waffled for a second before the desire to not turn into a rocket pop won over whatever tiny speck of fashion sense he possessed. 

 

“It’s not because it’s a girl color,” Sam told her quickly as he wrapped the scarf around his neck as many times as it could fit. “I just don’t like it.”

 

Kamala rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say. Hey! Isn’t that his dad?”

 

Sam craned his neck over her shoulder, squinting down at the street. Jefferson was laying a hand on Miles’s shoulder and saying something. 

 

“Fire escape,” Kamala hissed, pointing. 

 

“We don’t have to whisper,” Sam grumbled at her as they climbed down. “He doesn’t have the proportional hearing of a spider.”

 

“That’s what he wants us to think,” she said, peering around the corner. “Okay, his dad’s gone.”

 

“Hey Morales!” Sam yelled loudly from across the street. Kamala punched his shoulder. The bleary-eyed teens milling nervously around the steps of the school swung around in eerie synchronicity to glare at them.

 

Miles jogged across the street. “What are you guys doing here?” he hissed, glancing back over his shoulder. 

 

“Stopping you from making a big mistake,” said Kamala. “Hand it over.”

 

“Oh my god, seriously? Guys, this really isn’t necessary.”Miles clutched his backpack to his chest.

 

“It is necessary,” said Kamala. “Give us the suit.”

 

“I don’t think -“

 

“Suit, suit, suit!” Sam chanted at him. 

 

Kamala joined in. “Suit, suit, suit.”

 

“You guys suck,” Miles grumbled. He tossed Kamala the bag, which she snagged with a momentary embiggened hand.She unzipped it and looked inside, then gave Sam a thumbs up.

 

“Web-shooters too.” Sam held out his hand.He still looked grumpy and cold, even with Kamala’s mittens and scarf. 

 

“What if they wanted to search your bag?” Kamala said. She had heard horror stories. Cell phones ringing during the test. Exams voided. Lives ruined, basically.

 

“I’d say I was a big fan of- hey, don’t put those on!”

 

Sam was already attaching the web-shooters to his wrist.He made a _thwip_ motion with his hands and Miles lunged at him, glaring. Kamala stuck an arm between them. 

 

“Okay, now the SAT lasts for four hours,” said Kamala, ignoring Sam as he twisted away from her arm and pretended to aim one of the web-shooters at a nearby telephone pole. “Sam and I will be patrolling the area and we’ll take care of anything that comes up. You will not leave the testing area under any circumstances.”

 

“What if-?” started Miles. 

 

Kamala glared at him. “Any! Circumstances!”

 

“You’re not the boss of me! This is insane. Just wait until March,” Miles vowed, glaring at her. 

 

Her stomach twisted. Maybe she should have stayed home.Miles could decide his own life.She could be reviewing vocabulary.“Don’t remind me.”

 

“You’re both old,” Sam said. He pretended to yawn. Or maybe it was real. Kamala realized guiltily that it was still the middle of the night in Arizona.

 

Miles was edging back towards the street. “If New York seems like it’s about to be incinerated, I’m leaving the test,” he warned them.

 

“Good luck!” Kamala yelled after him. “No pressure!”

 

Kamala and Sam watched him go into the school. When she glanced over, there was an uncharacteristically glum look on Sam’s face. Kamala nudged his side. “Hey, are you okay? You didn’t get any news about your dad, did you?”

 

Sam’s expression turned confused. “What? No.”

 

“Okay.” She watched him for a second. “You’re totally going to wear the suit, aren’t you?” she said. 

 

Sam perked up immediately. “Obviously.” His stomach grumbled loudly and Kamala thought his face got a little redder.“Breakfast first though.”

 

* * *

 

Sam changed while Kamala went to go get something to eat.

 

“You’re a personal crime against bagels and New Yorkers everywhere,” she announced when she got back, appearing beside him and dropping a paper bag in his lap.He totally jumped, and she hadn’t even tried to be sneaky. 

 

“You’re from New Jersey.”Sam rolled the Spider-Man suit up over his nose. “Did they have the chocolate chip?” he asked her.

 

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “And they’ve banned me from the shop forever.”

 

Sam opened the bag and took a giant bite of his bagel. “New Yorkers are so snobby about food,” he complained with his mouth full.Kamala made a face at him a nd pulled out her own bagel. 

 

“I’m from New Jersey,” she mocked him. “Where we eat like grown ups.”

 

He rolled his eyes at her but his mouth was too stuffed to really respond. They inhaled the rest of the food in record time. Sam threw their trash away while Kamala changed into her costume.

 

“A lright,” said Sam, muffled through the mask. “Let’s do this thing.”

 

Usually, they used rooftops to move around on patrol, but it quickly became obvious that that wasn’t going to be an option. 

 

“Owww,” Sam moaned, rubbing at his shoulder.He gave the web-shooters a betrayed look.“How does he do this off of _skyscrapers_?”

 

“Superhumanly enhanced strength and flexibility?” Kamala suggested.“Want to change back now?"

 

“I’m fine,” Sam said.He rolled his shoulder and made a face.“I think I dislocated something.”

 

Kamala rolled her eyes.Boys.Couldn’t admit that something hurt.“You’re fine or you’re not.Which is it?”

 

He quickly straightened up, badly suppressing a wince as he rolled his shoulder.“I’m good.We can keep going.”

 

It felt strange to Kamala, walking around the streets in her costume and nodding at joggers, like going to school in her pajamas.The neighborhood was quiet, even for a weekend, so they kept going, walking in some approximation of a grid pattern. 

 

“People don’t wake up to do crime on a Saturday morning.” Sam yawned. “Who knew?”

 

“That makes whatever crime does happen extra nefarious though, I’ll bet,” Kamala theorized. “Since they had to get up and do it early.”

 

“What does that make us then?” he muttered. Kamala gave him a look. “Okay, okay, I get it. We keep going.”

 

Forty five minutes later and without so much as a purse thief or a stray cat to show for it, they were sitting on the top level of a parking garage, testing the range of the web-shooters. 

 

“Okay, my turn!” Kamala squinted, surveying the area around them. The satellite on the next building over seemed too easy.They had already used the sign for the computer repair shop.Sam began to hum an off-key rendition of the Jeopardy theme song and she kicked his ankle. Finally, she pointed at a billboard across the street. “That apple.” 

 

Sam lined his wrist up carefully.

 

The webbing hit it dead on. Sam punched the air, cheering himself. 

 

“Fine, fine, go,” said Kamala.

 

“First favorite superhero,” said Sam. 

 

Kamala scoffed. “Seriously? You’re wasting a question on that? Captain Marvel.”She gestured towards her costume.

 

“Really? When I was a kid, everything was about the Wasp.Then it was  Wolverine.Storm for a while.Iron Man.”

 

“You were a pretty fickle superhero groupie,” Kamala told him.

 

“I guess so," he said, shrugging.  "Not much else to do except skateboard around and pretend to be the Silver Surfer."

 

Kamala laughed.  "Fair enough."

 

"My turn to pick the target,” said Sam.He pointed at a streetlight down the road.“Hit the lamp part.”

 

Kamala raised the second web-shooter.

 

“What are you guys doing?”Kamala jumped and felt Sam do the same beside her.

 

“Spider-Man!” Kamala squeaked.The older one.She wasn’t afraid to admit that she still got a little starstruck from time to time.

 

Sam twisted around and almost fell off the roof. “What are you doing out -arghg.” He made a strangled sound as he gasped for breath. Spider-Man had picked him up by the collar of his spandex as soon as he began to speak.

 

“You’re not Spider-Man,” he accused, holding him up.The big blank eyes of his mask were accusing.

 

Kamala’s hand had curled up into a fist and swelled to twice its size before she really thought about it. “Leave him alone!” she warned.“Spider-Man - the _other_ Spider-Man - is fine.”

 

“Where is he?” Spider-Man set Sam down but kept a tight grip on his costume. 

 

“He’s taking the SAT,” said Kamala. “We’re holding down the neighborhood.”

 

“The SAT?” Spider-Man loosened his grip.  He clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder.  "Sorry, man.  They grow up so fast.” He pretended to sniff and wiped a fake tear from his eye.Sam scooted away from him, scowling.

 

Kamala crossed her arms.“What are you doing in Brooklyn?”

 

“Ah.Tombstone’s gang’s been making trouble,” he said. “Riling up Black Cat’s crew.  There was a big scuffle over an armored van in front of a playground yesterday.  Hammerhead likes a couple bars around here, but I’ve been waiting all night for him to show up so I can knock him around and I’m starting to get loopy.”

 

Kamala looked at Sam, who shrugged.“I didn’t notice a change,” he muttered.

 

“Do you know why Black Cat is a bad guy now?” Kamala asked.“There’s a lot of online speculation but no one has a solid theory.I saw one commenter who said -”

 

He began to back away.  “And thaaaaat’s my cue,” said Spider-Man.“Tell mini-me to not stress too much about test scores.  He's too smart to end up flipping burgers.”

 

“That's easy for you to say,” accused Kamala.“You went to college in like, the seventies.They probably just checked that you had graduated high school and let you right in.”

 

“How old do you think I _am_?” asked Spider-Man, shaking his head at them. “No, don’t answer that.I’m out of here.  My bed is calling my name.”  He tilted his head.  "I think I hear it now," he said dreamily.

 

They watched him swing away.

 

“Guess that means we should keep an eye out for Black Cat’s crew,” said Kamala, turning back towards Sam.

 

Sa m wasn’t beside her anymore though.He was almost halfway down the stairwell when she caught up with him.“What are you doing?” she panted.

 

He ignored her, looking at his phone now.  “Viv texted,” he said flatly. “Atlanteans are invading Boston Harbor.Full Avengers response.”He grabbed the backpack that had his helmet in it.“We can get there in fifteen minutes.”

 

“Hold on,” said Kamala, grabbing the other strap of the backpack“We can’t go to Boston.We promised Miles we’d look out for this area while he was testing.”

 

“If something really bad happens, Miles is going to leave anyway, just like he said. It’s just a stupid test,” Sam said incredulously.He yanked the backpack away from her again and began to walk away.

 

“Why are you in such a bad mood all of the sudden?” Kamala kept up with him easily.They were almost to the river, but she wasn’t sure if he knew that.“Where are you going?”

 

“This way,” he said tersely.  People on the sidewalks were starting to give them weird looks now.Spider-Man and Ms Marvel’s big Brooklyn blowup would hit Twitter any minute now.  Kamala grit her teeth.

 

“Would you please stop and talk to me?” she pleaded.  He ignored her.  "So mature," she said, sarcastic now, still trailing after him.  She wished that he wasn't wearing the Spider-Man mask.  It would be so much easier to figure out what was going on if she could see his face.  He turned down a side street.  

 

The street only had a few people on it, making the distinctive profile of the man walking a block or so in front of them even more recognizable.  “Hang  on, isn’t that Hammerhead?” Kamala grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him around a corner so that they weren’t visible.He yanked his arm away and peered back over her shoulder.

 

“His head looks nothing like a hammer,” he said sullenly.

 

She poked him in the side and he scowled, but let her switch their places.“That’s h im for sure,” she said, thinking.Hammerhead had +3 strength and +5 durability according to the superhero wiki she edited sometimes.That wasn’t exactly her forte, and it definitely wasn’t Sam’s without his helmet on.

 

“Well if you’re sure,” he said sarcastically, straightening up. He wasn’t trying to be quiet anymore.

 

"What is your problem?" she whisper-shouted, exasperated.  "You were fine and now you don't get to punch some fish people and you're acting like a toddler about it?"

 

“I’m not the one freaking out everyone around her!” said Sam.  "You may be super smart and all, but your priorities are seriously whacked!"

 

“Is this about the SAT?” Kamala hissed, incredulous.  She peeked around the corner again.  Hammerhead was gone.  Frustration was building in her gut.

 

“Yes!"

 

“I am _not_ super smart," Kamala said.  "So I have to be prepared, if I don't want to end up stuck serving fries or mopping floors or something!"

 

“Yeah, that would really suck wouldn’t it,” Sam snapped.

 

A split second later, she realized what she had said.“I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

He was already storming away.“Wait! Sam!” She clapped a hand over her mouth and looked around guiltily.The old lady walking a tiny Pomeranian down by the river was wearing ear muffs.The jogger going by had earbuds in.Kamala leaned back against a building and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to get her feelings under control.

 

She _knew_ that Sam's dad had been a janitor, just like she knew that he was super sensitive about it.  It was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about his dad even in a favorable context.  Now, she felt about as low as whenever she had fought with Aamir when they were kids.  She needed to find Sam and apologize.

 

She was turning to head in the direction he had gone when suddenly she heard shouting. Everyone on the sidewalks seemed to be coming towards her.She caught snippets of their anxious conversations - _Hammerhead_ \- _evacuate the area_ \- _there goes brunch_ \- _hit him hard_ \- and quickened her pace.She took a deep breath and concentrated on letting her legs grow long, like stilts.The crowds melted away as she got to the Navy Yard.This was the direction Sam had headed.

 

There weren’t many signs of trouble - a broken window and an overturned bench.

 

“S - Spidey?” No response.“Nova?”She rounded the corner. There was no sign of Sam. “Very funny.”

 

Something had fallen behind the bench.She walked closer.

 

It was Sam’s backpack. Kamala’s stomach sunk. Crouching down, she was already sure of what she would find when she would find when she unzipped it.  The empty eyes of the black Supernova helmet stared back at her.

 

* * *

 

Miles looked at the prompt again. 

 

He glanced at the clock. Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrap. How was he supposed to write an entire essay in 25 minutes? Miles could barely write an essay when it was assigned two weeks in advance. 

 

There were eight minutes left. He stared down at his testing booklet. He needed two more paragraphs.  The words that he needed seemed completely inaccessible.  It was like they were locked in a vault on Earth-65 and he was here, starting at a half empty page, without a dimension-teleporting watch.

 

The rest of the test passed in an anxious blur.A full five minutes vanished when he fretted over whether he had bubbled too many ‘C’s in on one section.Halfway through he decided that he was going to be a hero for hire.If they were still around.Kamala would know.He could check with her whenever he got out of here.

 

When the proctor called time on the final section, Miles could have cried.The gust of cold air that hit him when he pushed open the door was a miserable shock, as was the sight across the street.A familiar red scarf was tied around the telephone pole across from the school. On instinct, stomach sinking, Miles looked up. 

 

Ms. Marvel was already swinging down towards him from the roof of the deli across the street. She grabbed her scarf with one hand and his elbow with the other. 

 

“Ms. Marvel, right?”He tried to feign surprise. “Wow, a real-life superhero. Here in Brooklyn.”

 

“I wouldn’t pursue a future in acting if I were you,” she said, pushing him towards an alleyway. Her voice sounded strained. 

 

“Wow.” Miles let her shove him, not really sure what was going on. “Rude.”

 

“Save the indignation,” Kamala said.

 

“For _what_?” Miles asked her.  "Where's Sam?"

 

“Nova and I were down at the Navy Yard and we saw Hammerhead. He’s working with Black Cat,” she explained to him in a rush of words.“We split up and he took him.”

 

Miles tried to process this.“Who…took who?”

 

“Hammerhead! Took Nova!” Her foot was tapping nervously against the pavement, which he tried to ignore.

 

“What would Black Cat want with Nova?” he asked. “How would they even grab him? He can fly faster than they can sneeze.”

 

She winced. “He was wearing your costume.”

 

Miles did what he felt like was the only appropriate thing to do, and freaked out. 

 

 

* * *

 

Sam woke up in the dark.It was bitterly cold and he seemed to be handcuffed to a large metal pipe that ran through the floor and up to the ceiling.His arms and shoulders hurt from being roughly joined behind his back and he had a killer headache from whatever they had used to sedate him, but other than that, he thought he was fairly uninjured.Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could see through the mask that he was in some sort of warehouse. 

 

“Aw, crap.” The mask was still on, but someone had definitely taken the web-shooters.  He remembered the dude Kamala had called Hammerhead stepping into the street, he remembered ducking a punch, then nothing.  This was really going to suck to explain to Miles.Maybe he could fake his death, stick to Arizona for the rest of his life.He could just split his time between Carefree and outer space and never see anyone from New York ever again.

 

Voices floated closer to him, breaking him away from the impending demise of his superhero friendships.

 

“-nothin’ special, just the usual tranq,” someone was saying.

 

“He should have woken up an hour ago,” a female voice snapped. It belonged to a shadowy figure wearing a catsuit and a white ski parka that probably cost more than his mom’s whole apartment. Her long white hair was shockingly bright, even in the dim light of...wherever they were. 

 

“Thanks for joining us, Spider-Man,” the Black Cat said. 

 

Sam didn’t usually get any headaches not related to concussion symptoms, but he had been in enough meetings with the principal to know when an interrogation was going to be long.He decided to head the whole thing off.“Woah, lady, you’ve made a big mistake.I’m not Spider-Man.”

 

That seemed to be funny to her. “Oh? Do explain.” She leaned against a wall. “This should be good.”

 

“I’m just posing as him for the day,” he said, mind racing, trying to figure out what details would be too dangerous to share. “I was — trying to impress a girl.”

 

“The Danvers wannabe he’s always around?” she asked. “No, I don’t care. What kind of moron do you think I am?” She stalked over to where he was tied and yanked roughly on the mask. It came off, along with a large clump of hair. 

 

“Hey!” he yelped. “Foul!”He tried to duck his head, but she grabbed hold of his chin and held it, hard.

 

She stared at his face, legitimately shocked. He screwed up his expression at her.“Not cool, lady.”

 

“Who are _you_?” she said, in nearly the same tone of voice as the Carefree librarian used whenever she saw him get anywhere near the vicinity of a book. 

 

Sam knew better than to answer that.“Happy now?” He glared at her. 

 

“Alright, kid, you’re a moron, but you’re not Spider-Man.” She tugged the mask back over his ears. “People have died imitating that jackass, you know. You’re almost lucky it was me who got you.”

 

“So you’ll let me go?” Sam asked. Maybe he could get out of this with minimal humiliation. 

 

She laughed. “That’s cute.” She began to pace in circles around him.“That costume, the web-shooters…those are the real deal. How’d you get your hands on those?”

 

“Found’em.” Sam crossed his fingers behind his back. A burr in the metal was biting into his wrist now. He tried to shift his hands without moving his arms obviously. “Stashed in a backpack. Like those people who are always finding Daredevil’s shirts.” That was a thing, he was pretty sure. He should probably start listening when Miles talked about New York. 

 

She stoped pacing to stare at him and her smile turned cruel. “I don’t believe you. But I think you’re going to be useful to me as bait.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes, then realized she couldn’t see him. He tried to project a cool disaffection. “He - the real Spider-Man - doesn’t have a costume or web-shooters,” he pointed out, “so your plan kind of sucks.”

 

Black Cat straightened up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Suddenly she seemed more tired, less like she was having fun than she had a few moments before. “I’ve been around long enough to know better than that, kid. Your Spider-Man wants to be a hero. He’ll come for you. That little Jersey girl too, probably.”

 

Sam clenched his jaw, mostly to keep his teeth from chattering. His fingers were starting to throb from the cold. “I don’t know them,” he insisted. “I have to be home to babysit my sister. My mom’s shift starts at 7.”

 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought that she paused then. “Nice try,” she said eventually.“You stay here though.”She stalked out of the room before he could respond, and Sam was left to shout and struggle with his handcuffs.

 

Kamala would just shrink her hands and wrists until she could slip right out of the cuffs. Miles would have been able to peel them off like they were made of pipe cleaners and wet paper. That seemed like an obvious misstep on the part of either the Black Cat or her goons. Maybe she didn’t realize how the goons had restrained him, he decided. Or maybe the handcuffs were reinforced for super strong people and Sam couldn’t even tell because he wasn’t super strong. There was something depressing about that. 

 

He tried to rotate his wrists around, which hurt.His right arm could barely move at all, but he could twist pretty far on the left side.With some straining, he was able to feel the side of the handcuff — and the gap there.

 

With a jolt, he realized that they must have originally put the handcuffs on over the web-shooters.The right hand had been removed and tightened whenever they stuck him on the pipe, but the left one…there was room there.  Maybe there was something to being a scrawny fifteen year old after all.

 

He twisted his shoulder, trying to get a better angle on the cuff.Every time he tried to get leverage to work his hand through, the chain skidded on the metal pole he was chained against.  Finally, he pulled his shoulders as far away from where he was handcuffed as he could get them, curled his hand, and yanked hard.  There was a sharp pain in his arm, but he felt the cuff scrape over his knuckles.  His hands came apart and he stumbled to the floor.

 

His first instinct was to find a window and get the hell out of there.  He didn't have his helmet.  He didn't even have the web-shooters.

 

The web-shooters.  Black Cat or one of her gang had taken them.  He grit his teeth and thought of several choice words that his mom would have grounded him for using.  He was going to find the web-shooters.  He was going to clean this mess up.  And then he was going to fly home and never try to make friends ever again.

 

He surveyed the room they were holding him in.  It was industrial and abandoned-looking, with piles of scrap metal and rotting wood.  There were two doors.  The one that Black Cat had disappeared into looked to be a dark hallway.  The other one didn't have a windowpane, but Sam could hear multiple voices talking on the other side, so he guessed it was where the other gang members were hanging out.  Hopefully Hammerhead wasn't with them.

 

He began to stack up the pieces of metal, making as little noise as possible.  It wasn't so different from setting up building blocks with Kaelynn, he told himself.  When he thought he had piled enough, he crept back over to the door, standing by the hinges.  Aiming carefully, he threw a piece of wood at the pile of scraps, sending the whole thing clattering to the floor.

 

Sure enough, the goons came flooding into the room, squinting and running around.  He slipped around to the other side of the door.

 

Miracle of miracles, the web-shooters were on the table.  He grabbed them and tried to attach them as he headed for the door on the opposite side of the room.

 

"Hey!" Sam froze, heart thudding.  There was a woman in the door, one of the gang members.  She was pointing a gun at his head.

 

"Woah!" He spread his hands, palms away from her.  "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to point those at people?"  He moved as he said it, pointing with one hand and aiming the web-shooter with the other.  He had seen Miles pull this move dozens of times before.  He shot a webline at the gun and pulled.  Instead of the gun coming out of her hand though, her whole hand came forward.  The gun fired, ricocheting off the ceiling.

 

Sam yelped and fired another webline, this time at her face.  "Sorry!" he yelled, diving for the door.

 

Another group of thugs was outside, unloading guns from a truck.  They looked almost as surprised to see Sam as he was to see them.

 

"Oh, shit."

 

* * *

 

Kamala was going to drive Miles up the wall.“What are we going to do?” she moaned, for at least the sixth time.They were at the spot where she thought Sam had been taken, running through their limited options again.

 

“Can’t you ask that friend of yours to track down Hammerhead?”Miles asked her.“Buddy? Brian? We can have him look for police investigation findings, known hangout spots, that sort of thing.”

 

The frosty look she gave him would have impressed even his grandmother. “No," she said shortly.  "Can’t you ask yours?”

 

Ganke was out of town until the semester started back. “No.  Viv and Cho?”

 

"Boston with the Avengers," she frowned.  "And we don't know about Cyclops."

 

"Haven't heard from him," Miles confirmed.

 

“Well then.”They glared at each other for a few seconds.Finally, Kamala sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.“Okay.We need to figure out where they could have taken him.And you need a costume.”

 

“Ironheart,” said Miles suddenly.“She’s got all of that armor from Tony Stark and she works on it in the city sometimes.And she might be able to help us research Hammerhead and Black Cat too.”

 

Kamala nodded slowly.“Is she in the city today?” she asked.

 

"I'll check," he said, pulling out his phone.

 

Kamala inhaled deeply.  "It's worth a shot," she said, as much to herself as to him.

 

Riri texted back almost immediately, so they began to head towards Midtown.

 

"She said she'd meet us outside," Miles said, checking at his phone again.  To their credit, the Stark employees going in and out of the building didn't seem to blink an eye at Ms. Marvel and a random civilian hovering outside the main entrance to their offices.

 

His spider-sense prickled, just before a smooth voice spoke from behind them.  “Is there an emergency that I should be worried about?”  

 

Miles was sure he had never met the woman standing next to them, but she was somehow familiar.She had long red hair and her fingers were drumming dangerously where her hand was resting on her hip.

 

“We’re looking for Ironheart?” Miles didn’t mean for it to come out sounding like a question.He gulped.

 

“Good for you,” she said.  “And I repeat the question.”

 

“No emergency.We’re normal,” Kamala said quickly. “I mean he’s normal. A normal guy. I’m Ms. Marvel, obviously." She tugged at her scarf.  "It’s kind of urgent, actually, so if you could just point us in the right direction…?”

 

“She’s not here,” said the woman.“She’s at the Stark Industrial Complex.”

 

Miles and Kamala gave her identical blank looks.“Isn’t that where we are?”He glanced up at the building, just to make sure.  It definitely said STARK across the doorway.

 

She sighed.“No.You’re at Stark Headquarters.I’m Mary Jane Watson, the executive administrator.  Ms. Williams is out in New Jersey.  Can I help you with something?”

 

“Not really,” said Kamala, shooting a dismayed look at Miles.“Sorry for bothering you.” She grabbed his elbow and moved to leave.

 

“No wait!” said Miles. Kamala gave him a Look. “It’s okay, she’s friends with the other Spider-Man,” he told her. He had remembered where he knew her from. 

 

Miles didn’t think about the Other Place much, mostly because he got a splitting headache whenever he tried. Mary Jane Watson was older, and her look was completely different than her Other self, but he knew it was her. 

 

“Ms Marvel was, uh, just telling me that a friend of hers was kidnapped. He was wearing the Spider-Man costume. The, um, other one.”Miles explained. “We’re trying to find him.”

 

“I suppose there’s some reason you didn’t call the police?” Mary Jane asked dryly.

 

“Well...” Kamala tugged nervously at her scarf. “The vigilante thing. And who knows who the Black Cat has got on the police force.”

 

“Hmm.Black Cat?”Mary Jane sighed.“Come with me.”

 

She led them down a set of sleek and silver hallways.Miles didn’t touch anything, afraid that if he did, he would leave smudgy fingerprints all over the chrome.They turned into a large room.On one side was an enormous computer, with a screen that went up to the ceiling.Other screens around the room displayed a variety of information: the Tokyo Stock Exchange, a basketball game, a report on unusual weather trends in Southeast Asia, and what Miles was pretty sure looked like a live feed of the moon.

 

Mary Jane turned towards one of the walls. “Friday, do a scan for beta radiation in, let’s say, Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan.”

 

He blinked as the glowing AI suddenly appeared.

 

“Spider-Man emits a low level of radioactivity,” Mary Jane explained to them. “It has a half-life of, oh, about ten hours. The suit should have absorbed enough to be traceable, if you calibrate your equipment exactly right.” 

 

“Uh—” Miles said.

 

“How do you know that?” Kamala asked, sounding impressed.She had settled into one of the chairs and was looking around the room now.

 

“I know a lot of things,” said Mary Jane breezily.“Now why don’t you tell me why your friend was impersonating Spider-Man and how he ended up in the hands of an organized crime syndicate.”

 

“Um,” said Miles, “Actually—”

 

“Search complete.” said Friday. “One result.410 West 14th-”

 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Mary Jane cut off the AI.“That’ll be the other Spider-Man," she told them.  "We can try expanding the search radius.Friday—”

 

“Wait!” Miles said, louder than he meant to. “It’s not going to work like that,” he said, as they both stared at him, startled. “The first Spider-Man might be radioactive. But the new one was bitten by a genetically altered spider. So I’ve heard,” he tacked on quickly. “It won’t work the same way.”

 

“Okay.” Mary Jane sank back in her chair and rubbed at her face. “That would do it,” she said.“Alright, it’s a weekend and I’ve got real work to be doing, so we’d better go straight to the source.”She dug around her purse some and pulled out a phone.“You two stay quiet. This should be interesting.”

 

“What should -” Miles started, but Kamala shushed him.

 

“Friday, call Felicia,” Mary Jane ordered.

  

The call rang for long enough that Miles was afraid she wouldn't pick up.  Finally though, "Queenpin here," purred a familiar voice, pricking his spider-sense.

 

“Hi Felicia,” Mary Jane said. “It’s been a while.”

 

“Em-Jay Watson,” drawled the voice on the other end of the line, “I heard SI brought you in to play girlboss.”

 

“It seems to be going around,” said Mary Jane pointedly. “What happened to being a hero?”

 

“You know what the difference between a hero and a villain is?”Black Cat’s tone was sharp now. “When I went out at night, I wasn’t looking to hit someone.”

 

She spat the words out.

 

“And how about now?”Mary Jane’s voice was almost gentle. 

 

There was a pause and Miles was sure that Black Cat had hung up. “What’s this about, Mary Jane?  If you’re worried about corporate espionage, I have to tell you: Stark Industries has nothing worth the extremely short amount of time it would take me to steal it.”

 

Mary Jane sighed and pushed something on her phone, taking the call off of speakerphone and standing up to pace. Miles couldn’t hear the other side of the call anymore. 

 

“I think you may have picked up the wrong package by mistake,” Mary Jane said mildly. “Would you mind returning him?”

 

There was a pause, as Black Cat presumably made some cutting remarks.

 

“I’ve got my sources.”Her eyes slid over to Miles and she shook her head.“No can do,” she said. “Nice try though.” 

 

Another pause.It looked like she was scrolling through something over at one of the computer monitors now.Miles glanced at Kamala and saw that she had done something to expand the size of her ears and appeared to be eavesdropping intently.

 

“No tech, but there must be something...," Mary Jane mused.  "How about I take you as my date to the Met Gala?” she offered. “Low security - it’ll be like Christmas.” The silence in the room while Black Cat talked on the other end of the line seemed to go on for a long time.“Alright, I’ll see you then,” she said, before hanging up. 

 

Kamala was staring at her. “Did you just offer to help her steal from the Met?”

 

“Of course not,” said Mary Jane, sounding offended. “Taking something at the Met Gala wouldn’t be enough of a challenge for Fee. I can’t vouch for the security of whatever Harry Winston loans out for the night though.”She grabbed her purse from the desk. “Let’s go, kiddos, before she changes her mind. She’s going to text me the exact location. Friday, cancel my 2:00.”

 

“She just agreed, just like that? And you’re just going to go? Aren’t you worried about her?” Kamala hurried after her, firing off questions.Miles trailed awkwardly behind them, wondering if he should keep pretending to be a civilian. He was pretty sure that Mary Jane was humoring him at this point. 

 

“I can take care of myself,” Mary Jane laughed.Halfway out the door, she whirled abruptly towards Miles. “Hey, do you need a mask or something?”

 

“Who, me?” Miles bit his lip, trying to come up with a half decent excuse. “Um. I’m just.”

 

“Hang on.”She pulled them into what was either a large closet or a small storage room.Boxes full of wires and cell phones and were stacked on shelves to the ceiling.“McQueen’s Spring/Summer collection has a superhero design.The Creative Director sent me a sample because she thought I’d get a kick out of it.Little did she know…” Mary Jane seemed to be talking mostly to herself now as she pushed aside cardboard and bubble wrap.Miles only understood about half of what she was saying.“Here you go.” She thrust one of the boxes at Miles.  It was full of shiny spandex and feathers.  "Pick something, don't pick something, it's up to you."

 

“Wow,” said Kamala when she saw him. “La araña discoteca, making a comeback in a big way.”

 

Miles snorted, despite himself.  He had tried to pick out the least ostentatious sample, which still ended up being some kind of black jumpsuit in an experimental fabric, embellished liberally with black sequins.  The mask wasn't too dissimilar to Kamala's, except his was made out of velvet.

 

They trailed after Mary Jane as she led them back across the river.

 

Mary Jane’s phone started to ring.“Felicia? Where are you?”

 

The answering shout was clearly audible.Mary Jane winced and moved the cell phone away to arms length.“Woah woah woah, we didn’t take him.We’re at the park.”

 

“She lost him?” Kamala hissed.

 

“Maybe he escaped,” Miles said hopefully. 

 

Mary Jane gave them a pointed look and covered the speaker of the phone.  "Friday's trying to trace Felicia's cell phone," she told them.  "I'm going to try to get to the roof and see if I can get her a better signal."  She pointed to the building next to them.  "You two stay here and don't do anything stupid."

 

Miles leaned his back against a building and began to pick at some of the sequins on his wrist.  Kamala came up beside him.  "Sorry about all of this," she muttered.  "You're probably pretty tired."

 

He was, now that she pointed it out.  At the same time though, "Honestly, until you said that, I hadn't thought about it."  He shrugged.  "And I've hardly thought about test scores or college applications all afternoon, so as long as we find Sam, it will have been a pretty okay afternoon."

 

"Kind of a big 'if'," she said.

 

Miles felt his spider sense prick at the back of his neck. He grabbed Kamala’s arm. “Something’s coming.”

 

Kamala tilted her head. “Did you hear that?” She closed her eyes and began to enlarge her ears, embiggening them until they were nearly Dumbo sized. “Someone is shouting. It came from that way.” She pointed at the cross street.

 

They both heard the shout the next time. “Did they say-”

 

“HELMET!!!” Sam was heading down the road at them in a full sprint, with several large men in ski masks on his heels.  He was waving his arms at them.

 

He managed to twist his arm around and web one of his pursuers in the face, but the others were gaining on him quickly. Miles grabbed the backpack and lobbed it at him as he and Kamala rushed to intercept the gangsters.

 

Miles had reclaimed his web-shooters and they were webbing the guys to telephone poles by the time Mary Jane got back. “Felicia called off her minions. Something about Tombstone - wow, what happened here?”

 

“Tombstone’s guys heard she had Spider-Man,” Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “They thought it was the other one and tried to grab me. There was a big fight down at the warehouse.”

 

Mary Jane stared at him.  Sam had the Nova helmet on, but hadn't released the rest of the suit, so he was still wearing Miles's costume from the neck down.  "Where did you come from?"

 

"Um." Sam turned the helmet left and right, looking at their surroundings.  "That way?" He pointed.

 

"Some of Tombstone's guys chased him here from where Black Cat was keeping him," Miles explained to her.  "You missed a lot of punching."

 

In his peripheral vision, he saw Kamala hug Sam tightly.  "I'm sorry about earlier.  I didn't mean to get so intense about school and I shouldn't have said what I said," she told him quietly.

 

Sam shrugged uncomfortably.  "I'm not like you and Mi - Spider-Man," he corrected himself, matching Kamala's low tone.  "It will be a minor miracle if I even graduate high school, I mean I've _already been expelled_ -"

 

Miles tried desperately to inch away from where they were making up or having feelings or whatever was happening.  He didn't need to be eavesdropping.

 

"Hey." Mary Jane put a hand on his back.  "I'm going to head back to work.  It looks like things worked out.  I'm glad."

 

"We'd have been kind of screwed without you," he admitted.  "So...thank you."

 

"Anytime, kiddo. For a friend of Spidey's?" She winked at him, friendly.  "Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it, okay, Tiger?  There are more of us around than you think."

 

Miles nodded at her, grateful.  "What about this?"  He pointed to the jumpsuit she had loaned him.

 

She shrugged as walked over toward the intersection and hailed a cab.  "It's yours.  Keep it, sell it, whatever you want.  Should be worth a couple grand."

 

Miles squeaked.  " _What?_!" Mary Jane had disappeared into a cab though.

 

There was a tap on his shoulder.  Sam was there, somehow back in his regular clothes.  Although Miles would have bet money that Kamala had been wearing that hat earlier.

  
“Being Spider-Man is hard,” Sam said to him, grinning wearily. “Please take your costume back and never let me have it again."  He held out the spandex. “Nice look, by the way.”

 

Miles’s brain was so tired, it took a second to realize he meant Mary Jane's improvised costume. “I think maybe we should just never mention anything about this day again.  Strike it from the record.”

 

"Agreed."  Sam looked relieved.

 

“You guys want to grab something to eat?” Kamala asked them.

 

“I’ll have to take a raincheck,” Miles said. “My parents are taking me out to eat.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got to get back to Arizona,” Sam said. “I’m looking after Kaelynn tonight.”

 

“Oh, right.” Kamala’s shoulders slumped a little.

 

“Pizza after patrol on Monday?” Sam suggested. He elbowed Kamala lightly. “You can bring your flashcards.”

 

She sniffled and threw her arms around both of them. “Thanks for being on my team, you guys.”

 

Miles patted her shoulder awkwardly and looked over her shoulder. Sam shrugged back at him.

 

“Don’t get too settled,” Sam warned them. “This is only a temporary gig until the Avengers come crawling to take me back.”

 

“Me too,” said Miles, cracking a smile.

 

“Me three,” said Kamala, laughing, and then immediately sniffling again. She gave their shoulders a last squeeze and let them go. They all grinned at each other.

 

“As long as we’re all on the same page,” said Sam. “Champions forever!”

 

“Aw man,” said Miles, checking the time on his phone, “I’m never going to make it to dinner in time to change.”

 

“I’ll give you a ride,” Sam offered. He lifted off the ground and offered Miles his hands.

 

“See you Monday!” Kamala yelled after them as they flew away.  They waved back until she was a tiny speck of rice on the ground.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> title is Marvin Gaye/Tammi Terrell


End file.
